My old doula bag was a bag on wheels with a huge amount of tools. Now I have upgraded (eh, downgraded) to a small hip bag!
Don't Worry About All the Things
“Children will not remember you for the material things you provided, but for the feeling that you cherished them.” – Richard Evans
Why do we think it’s reasonable to spend thousands of dollars buying things for our babies, but we don’t think it’s reasonable to spend thousands of dollars on services that will help us better enjoy the time we have with them?
Here’s a rundown of the things people buy for their baby: a car seat, stroller, crib, bassinet, swing, playpen, baby tub, nursing pillow, breast pump, formula, bottles, pacifiers, toys, clothes, diapers, wipes, then maybe a wipes warmer and formula making machine, if you want to be fancy. There are so many more things that can be purchased. The list grows every day.
But here’s the thing: Babies only need a few things. They need a new car seat if they will go in a car. They need to be loved, warm, clean, and fed.
Here’s what those things can cost:
· Furniture for newborn nursery: thousands.
· Latest and greatest toys and gear: thousands.
· Disposable diapers: thousands.
· New clothes they grow out of after wearing less than five times: thousands.
· Formula: thousands.
It’s just all ridiculous. It’s even more ridiculous when you realize that you can buy many of these things used and in perfectly good shape. After you barely use it, you can pass it on to the next mom who will also use it briefly before she passes it on. And your baby will only want to play with things that aren’t actually toys, especially if you don’t want them to have them.
Here’s another thing that can cost thousands:
* A DOULA *
Many families spend thousands of dollars to hire a birth and postpartum doula. The price depends on how much time they need from their doula, and the services doulas provide cost a lot of money.
But those services are invaluable. A doula is like your pregnancy and postpartum travel guide. Sure, you can get along with one. But the experience is just so much better with that professional support. They answer your questions while you’re pregnant, and then they listen to you when you talk. They help you prepare for the most important day of your life, the day you become a parent. And then they answer your call, day or night, and come support you through the birth of your baby. After that, they come to your home and nurture you while you nurture your baby.
This time is so temporary and so critical for your family. This is the time to invest in services that help you establish healthy bonds with your baby, feel confident about parenting, and ease stress so you can look back at pictures of your tiny babies and actually remember enjoying this time with them. Please use any opportunity you have to make that experience as enjoyable as possible.
And don’t worry about all the things.
Why I Carry Rocks to a Birth
Whenever I meet with parents for a postpartum visit, I ask them what they liked about their birth. The first response is usually, “Oh, I loved the hot rocks!” Sometimes, it is the second response, so it goes: “When you rubbed my back…and oh, I loved the hot rocks!” These aren’t just regular rocks. They are large basalt massage stones that are shiny, and smooth, and oh-so-special. They go in a tiny crock pot of hot water and oils that greet everyone with a warm welcome whenever they enter the room. As a contraction begins, I place two of them on the mom’s sacrum with some nice massage oil. Her pelvis instantly relaxes and opens up. When they cool off, I swap them out for the other two that have been standing by. After they are done, they get bathed with chlorhexidine and humbly go to bed until the next time.
I would never know about hot rocks if it were not for an amazing massage doula named Shea who took me under her wings when I was a baby doula. She is seriously the best doula I have ever seen in action. I want to have another baby JUST so we can do her magic together. She has this crazy love and joy that just shoots through her body and out of her fingertips into the deepest parts of your being. And she was the one who showed me how to do it, but I’ll never be as cool as she is. I can only try.
Hot rocks are on my list of things that make a birth special. Obviously, a woman can give birth without them. But they help to make the experience more….more than it would be otherwise. The day you give birth is kind of like your wedding day, or the day you graduated, or the day you turned 16, but it’s even more important than any of those days. The occasion calls for details that frame the day in roses and pearls. Life is in the details, right?
And that is why I carry rocks to a birth.
So what exactly do you doulas do? And why can’t my husband just do all that?
Good questions.
You probably already know that we help people have babies. Basically, you pay us to be your bossy big sister, except we’re much nicer to you, and we actually know what we’re talking about. We love you, but not as much as your husband or mother or sister does. Since our relationship with you is professional, we don’t make emotion-based recommendations. And this is what we do all the time, so we say things like, “Let’s try Walchers.” Or, “Some Serenity oil would totally help all of us calm down right now.” Or, “You're doing a great job! Have a sip of water and try a little honey." That stuff is helpful when you’re having a baby.
Our support is constant for as long as you need us, and we never judge or condemn you for anything you choose to do. You may have family or friends who feel VERY STRONGLY that you must have a natural birth, or that you should never co-sleep with your baby, or that formula is evil. But this is your birth and your baby, and we get that. We want you to feel confident about your decisions, so we provide you with current evidence-based research when you ask for it. No subject is too trivial or too embarrassing to discuss with your doula. Seriously, we’ve heard it all. Our relationship is a safe place where you have freedom to explore your options without fear of being criticized, and we take the time to really listen to you talk. Then we know when to keep our big fat mouths shut.
When your labor advances to the point that you feel like you need our support, we will come at any hour of the day or night, and in all kinds of weather. We really don’t mind! You’re paying us, so we do what you want (…within reason). We know when the time is right to come over and squeeze your hips, and when you and your partner need private time alone. We pay attention to your needs at every given moment to determine how we can best support you. And after the birth, we stay by your side to gently guide you so you feel confident in your own instincts to care for your baby.
Doesn’t this all just sound wonderful?
Fact: Every postpartum doula carries the Italian mama gene, regardless of her ethnic background. It’s true. I googled it. After the birth at your home, we come and mother you while you mother your baby. We make sure your body and soul are fed healthy, delicious food, full of love. (This is where the Italian mama comes out.) Then we check on your family to see how we can help them feel extra special. Last, we look over your home, so you can focus on getting the rest you need.
We also have lots of extra little tricks we can’t tell you, because then you’d use them to take over the world.
We don’t do this because we really love babies, or because we get high on birth. We do love birth and babies, but mostly, we love empowering women, and we love to see families grow and be healthy and strong. And it’s nice to think we have some small role in that. But it really isn’t about us. We provide one valuable service as part of a team of professionals, whether you have a doctor or midwife, deliver at home, in the hospital, or in a birthing center. And we pride ourselves on providing the highest quality of doula care.
You certainly don’t need a doula. Plenty of women have babies without one.
But now that you know how awesome it can be to have one, why wouldn’t you?
-Heather
P.S. I’ve never actually said the words, “Let’s try Walcher’s.” I just think it’s a funny thing for a doula to say. And I made up the part about the Italian mama gene. Don’t google it.
Story’s 18th Birthday
My baby turned eighteen this week.
Let me tell you something about having a child who is a legal adult: it’s weird. Nobody ever told me how weird it would be. We just don’t talk about it. We spend our entire pregnancy obsessing about the birth. What if I poop when I’m pushing? What if my baby is ugly? Then we obsess about our newborn baby, who is never ugly! How can I make sure that my baby never gets sick? Or hurt? Please, God, don’t let my child be…average!
And then I blinked, and now she’s an adult. And I just realized that she could have a baby and name it Orville and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I could have a grandchild named Orville. That’s weird, right?
This whole sense of no longer being in control of my child is freaking me out. I think that’s what I miss most about being pregnant, just knowing where she was at all times.
So now she’s eighteen and living on Kauai as this brilliant and beautiful woman I have the privilege of claiming as my daughter. I am very proud of her, but I’m also proud of myself. She’s my first child, which is kind of like the first pancake. I know I made a lot of mistakes with her as I figured out how to raise kids. I’m so glad she knew how to borrow a stranger’s phone and call me when I lost her at the mall when she was five. But I really did the best I could, and she knows she has a strong mother who loves her.
She will always be my firstborn, which is special because she made me a mother. My due date was December 15, which was also the day of my last final. I was signed up for classes beginning right after New Year’s, so I agreed to an induction on December 20, figuring I could go right back to school two weeks after giving birth. Like many other young, first-time moms, I had no idea. But I was blessed with an efficient uterus and a general distrust for medical professionals, so I managed to push all ten pounds and thirteen ounces of her fat little body out of my vagina without any pain medication.
My labor at the beginning seemed like a piece of cake. I was already 5cm before they even started the Pitocin around 10:00am, and I contracted for hours without really feeling a lot of pain. I started to get cranky around 3:00pm, so I diligently started to apply all the valuable principles I learned from my Lamaze class. When the contractions got intense, I breathed hee hee hooooooo while the contraction climbed higher and higher and I thought I was going to explode. I started to hyperventilate and finally figured out that the only way to control my breathing was to scream like a banshee. It became my birth song as I slipped into another realm of consciousness. When they offered me drugs, I thought to myself, I’m already on drugs. My body is making all the drugs I need. I wanted to hang from the light fixture, but settled for supporting myself from the bed rails. The nurse was afraid I was going to break the bed, and told my husband to hold my hand instead. He wisely chose to ignore her and focused instead on obeying my orders to rub harder and harder on my sacrum.
The next day, my entire lower back was bruised, I was weak from anemia, and I had horrible pain from the episiotomy. But I felt wonderful. I was in love with my beautiful baby and was entirely impressed by everything she did.
There are many details I could relate about my first birth experience, but this is one detail that I still treasure. After they weighed the baby, the nurse was the first person who said anything to me. She said, “What a job you did!” At that moment I was actually wondering if I would die, but with those words I was suddenly awake, confident that I could now do anything. I am still grateful to that nurse for lifting me up with that simple praise. It taught me some important lessons about birth. The first is just that women are incredibly powerful, but their strength can be diminished if they are not properly supported during birth.
I have supported many women in birth since then; many have been stay-at-home moms, teachers, and office administrators. One was a doctor, another was a midwife. There was a VIP waitress, a missionary, a model, and one who cultivated medical marijuana for $100/hour. (I may have considered a career change for a minute there.) One was a biostatistician who had run a 100-mile marathon.
I’ve seen many women give birth naturally, and many who have had various interventions. Some suffer difficult complications and tragic heartbreak, while others experience only joy. But at every moment I am at a birth, I think these words: “I am enough.” For me as her doula, it means that at each and every moment, I will do my best to support her in whatever way I can. For the mother, these words can be her mantra. It doesn’t mean she has to do it alone, or without any help. It doesn’t mean her birth will be perfect, or that nobody will make any mistakes.
But she is enough. If she has a natural birth without any drugs or interventions, she is enough. If she gets an epidural, she is enough. If she has a cesarean birth, she is enough. If she feeds her baby with her breast or a bottle, she is enough. If she stays home or goes back to work, she’s enough. Good enough, strong enough, smart enough, just enough!
I think that was the part of my birth to Story that was so amazingly transformative for me. It was so big and powerful, but I was enough for it. And I learned from the mistakes made at that birth, and did better with the others.
Now my daughter is a woman, and someday she may have a child, in spite of the fact that her mother is a doula. I hope I can be there to support her on that day (many years from now, please). It will be her birthday again, because she will become a brand-new mother. I don’t know what her birth will be like. I’m glad I didn’t know all the scary things that can happen when I was having her. I almost wish I didn’t know what I know now.
And I can only pray that she doesn’t name the baby Orville.
-Heather
My Advice for Couples After the Birth of their Baby
A pregnant friend asked me for the top three bits of advice I would give to parents expecting a new baby. After much thought, I came up with these:
1. Expect it to suck. This is why I don’t like that video “Orgasmic Birth”. If women who watch that video go into labor and feel anything less than constant ecstasy, their whole birth experience is just hell. You have to go into it with realistic expectations. The same principle applies postpartum. Expect to be exhausted and sore and emotional. Expect breastfeeding to be frustrating and painful and relentless. Expect your partner to be annoying and irrational. Then when you get to sleep for 4 solid hours, you’ll be grateful. When your nipples are only sore for a week, you’ll be relieved. When you cry because your MIL comes over without any cake, you’ll just tell her to get back in her car and go get you one. And your husband will worry you have postpartum depression and you’ll say, “I just gave birth to that woman’s grandchild and she showed up at my house two days later without a cake! That bitch should know better.”
And you’re right. She should.
2. Expect it to suck. Speaking of in-laws and cake, don’t let people come over and suck you of what precious little energy you have. If you have friends and/or family who want to come over and see your beautiful new baby, they need to be ready to earn the privilege for a tiny peek. This requires forethought and preparation while you’re still pregnant. People will offer to help by saying things like, “Let me know if you need anything.” That’s when you get out a piece of paper and say, “What day of the week is good for you? Do you cook? Bake cakes? What exactly can you do?” Have some antibacterial wipes by the kitchen and bathroom sinks and keep things like trash bags and vacuums out so anybody over the age of five can be useful.
You should be able to love and nurture your new baby while everybody else loves and nurtures you.
3. Expect it to suck. And be determined to endure. I’ve seen couples who struggle with their relationship right after they have a baby, and I’ve seen couples who only grow closer together. The ones who get closer act like they are soldiers in the trenches with one another. They seem to have a common enemy: whether it’s poop or consciousness or bills, they feel for one another and they look out for each other. They worry if the other is eating well, or getting enough sleep, and they lovingly wipe baby puke off of each other. When one partner is unkind or selfish, the other lashes out and soon they have a big fight over nothing. Then they think about separation or divorce and realize it’s all just way too expensive. But you also don’t want to raise your child in a dysfunctional family, so you work on it. And then you love each other again and blink and then your kid is grown and gone.
At least that’s how it has gone for me. I wish I could offer some personal experiences from the five times I had a newborn baby, but I honestly don’t remember any of it. I’ve completely blocked it out, and so will you. Don’t worry.
-Heather